


Catch Me, I'm Falling!

by GhostsQueen



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst probably, M/M, angel au, fluff too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-22 13:28:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7440982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostsQueen/pseuds/GhostsQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nico was never the perfect angel. He knew that falling in love with a human was wrong, but he never realized how harsh the consequences could be. After being exiled from heaven, Nico finds himself injured and mortal with little memory of how he got there. Luckily, a friendly med student is able show him the little wonders of human lives. But one question still lingers: What must he do to get back home?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Light

The first thing he saw when he woke up was a dim light in a sea of darkness. _Where am I?_ He squinted, attempting to focus on the blurred red flicker above him, "Pizzeria di Angelo. Enter in front." _Pizza?_ His head pounded away at his thoughts as if it was being attacked violently with a hammer. _What happened?_ He closed his eyes. A flash of white, a high place, a hard fall.

A wince escaped his lips as he sat up, fresh pain bursting throughout his body. The chilly wind was eating him alive, and he had no protection other than a ragged white t-shirt that he did not remember owning. His back felt like a raging fire being consumed by blizzard. _What is that?_ He could feel the trembling of his hand as it ran along his spine, searching for the source of the pain. The burning sensation ignited to a sharp peak when his fingers brushed over the skin between his shoulder blades. The man let out a yelp. He pulled his arm back into his line of sight, red liquid dripping across the spot of illuminated concrete in shimmering flecks. He couldn't stop himself from dry heaving.

It took him a moment to try to steady his breathing. _I need to get up_. Shaky limbs lifted him onto his feet, but his body fought in agonizing protest. Blackness took over his vision and his legs began to buckle under his weight. The ground desperately wanted to swallow him whole. He stumbled, reaching his hand out to grip anything that could keep him from crumbling back to the ground. Brick scraped roughly against his palm. He blinked, staring at the wall he was leaning on as it came in and out of focus. Meanwhile, his head continued its extreme game of ping pong.

The man hesitated before taking a second wobbly step, then another, and another. His feet tripped pathetically across the cracks of the ground. He made sure to keep his fingers against the wall, using its surface as a guide. Each step threatened to drag him back down to the floor, aching his bones. Several times he considered giving into temptation, he could just lie on the cool pavement and wait to bleed out. But something inside drove him to go further. He pulled his shirt tighter to his body and continued to make his way through the dark.

It took what felt like hours before the red sign was a nothing but a small speck behind him. The wall had disappeared from its place beneath his touch. Ahead was nothing but a void of darkness. His legs felt like jelly, ready to give way any minute. The pain had only gotten worse as he moved along. His head was light from what had to be a loss of blood. There was no way he was going to last much longer. _I can't give up_. 

His muscles didn't share the same determination, he crashed to the ground, gashing the heels of his hands on rough pavement. His legs would not allow him to stand again. He lowered himself, settling with the fact that he would not be getting back up on his own. The nerves in his body yelled at him, telling him he should not have pushed himself so hard. He could feel a cold dampness nesting in his back, causing him to shiver where he lay.

_I'm going to die._

Just as he felt life start to slip out of reach, two small lights appeared out of the darkness. _Help._ His voice refused to work. The lights were coming closer. _Help me._ They were moving toward him, fast. A soft rumble joining their motions. _Please._ He remained on the floor, brightness filling his eyes until all he could see was an intense white. _I'm falling._ The rumble got louder. He could feel his heart begin to speed up with the pace of the lights. _I'm falling! I'm falling!_ What was left in his lungs came out in short, frantic breaths. The ground disappeared from under him. He tried to scream but it got lost somewhere in his throat. _Catch me, I'm falling!_ The light blinded him, he squeezed his eyes shut.

A loud screech echoed through his ears, but his eyes stayed closed.

"Oh my god!" A door shut, "Are you okay?"

He couldn't bring himself to respond. The sound of footsteps crunched on the pavement, hastily making their way to him.

Warm fingers delicately rested on his shoulder, careful not to cause more damage to his broken body. "Sir?" The warmth traced down to his wrist testing for a pulse. He could hear the person sigh with relief.

His eyes dazedly fluttered open to study the figure leaning over him. The bright lights once again filled his vision, dimmer but still blinding. He could only make out the person's silhouette: a black outline tinged with a glint of gold.

"Can you hear me? What happened?" The person asked, fast, but surprisingly calm.

"I'm falling." He choked out, a barely audible whisper.

"You're not falling." The voice assured. "You're safe. I'll call 9-1-1. Everything will be okay."

"No." He strained, a scratchy sound just loud enough to hear. He wasn't sure why he was refusing, but something in his gut had instructed him to do so. _What was 9-1-1 again?_

"No? " The person inhaled a sharp breath. "But, they can help you. If I leave you here, you-you'll _die!_ "

"No."

"But-"

" _Please._ "

A nervous exhale came from above him, "Okay."

He felt his body being lifted slowly, hands gently trying to avoid tender spots. He groaned. It didn't matter where they touched, everywhere hurt.

"Sorry!" The person was carrying him. He kept his eyes closed, afraid of seeing the lights again, afraid of falling back to the hungry earth. "Please just, try to stay with me."

He groaned more.

"Can you talk to me?" They begged, softly lowering him until he was rested on something leathery. "I need you to try to stay awake."

"I fell." His hoarse voice responded as he cautiously opened his eyes once more, hoping that the light would no longer be awaiting him. It was not. The space was significantly darker, blending together in a dull haze. He could still make out his helper's shadow where they stood: flecks of gold and a sparkle of blue staring down at him. They moved, mumbling something that his messed up mind was unable to understand.

He tried to focus on their watching the person's actions, but his eye-lids began to take on the weight of lead, the loss of blood draining his energy. He wanted to stay awake, to see what this person would do, to survive for them; but his body had a different plan. The pain consumed him against his will.

The world went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you were confused a bit this chapter, that was on purpose. At this point you only supposed to know as much as the character. Since he doesn't know how he got injured, his savior's name, or his own name, you don't really know those either. I think you can figure out who's who though
> 
> If you weren't confused this chapter, that's cool too.


	2. Name Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remembering is hard.

He awoke gasping for air, his body slick with sweat that soaked the soft blue sheets tangled around his legs. _I’m alive_? His head still throbbed, but it was nothing compared to his previous headache. He gently rubbed his eyes, reopening them to the realization that his vision was rather clear now. It took a moment for his sight to adjust to the strange surroundings. Sunlight trickled through the windows, cloaking the room with a pale light. The space itself was a relatively small, with cream walls plastered with various posters of music groups, photos, and an anatomical diagram of the human body. On the wall opposite of the bed a white door was closed.

He lifted himself tentatively out from under the covers, carefully placing his feet on the cold wooden floor. His hand kept a firm hold on the shabby bedside table just in case his muscles decided to give out again. Doing his best to balance himself, he padded lightly towards the door, relieved he made the venture without falling. He wrapped his fingers around the handle and inhaled a deep breath as he pulled it open, revealing a short, narrow corridor. A few paces down the hall was an open door that displayed what looked like a tiled bathroom. He briskly made his way to it; he definitely needed a bit of freshening up.

When he stood in front of the mirror, he jumped back a little at what he saw. Staring at him was a man in his early twenties with ghostly white skin, hollow brown eyes, and a rat’s nest of raven hair. He was alarmingly thin. The grey sweatpants he was wearing were sliding off his boney hips. Instead of a shirt, his torso was neatly wrapped in fresh gauze. He hesitantly reached back to touch the skin between his shoulder blades where the bandages were the thickest. Pain erupted in his back; he gasped. It felt better than before, but that didn’t stop it from hurting like hell.

After splashing his face with water he returned to the hallway. From an open room on the far end of the little corridor, a muffled voice echoed. _I know that voice_. He walked toward the sound, trying to place why he heard it before, and peeked into the room of its source. On one side there was a little kitchenette with light cabinets and a few plates scattered about. On the other side was a cozy little living room with a TV, book shelf, a coffee table that sported a few pizza boxes, and a well-loved couch currently being occupied by a man speaking into a cellphone. He had a wavy mop of blond hair and tanned skin spotted with freckles. Blue eyes flicked around with anxiousness. _It’s them._ He realized _. It’s the person who helped me._

“Yes. I know I’ve missed a lot but please,” He adjusted the phone so he could grab a slice of pizza, “cover for me just one more day.”

The blond paused, listening for the person’s response. “I know, Dr. Lester is going to kill me, but this is important.”

Another pause. Then the man exhaled.

“Thanks. I should be back s-” He looked up, catching the black haired man where he lurked in the doorway. His eyes widened. “Cecil, I’ll have to call you back.”

This time he didn’t wait for a reply before he put the phone down and stood up, making his way toward the silent observer _._

“You’re up.” He noted, scanning his eyes over the bandaged area. “How do you feel?”

“Better.” His voice was still nothing but a coarse whisper. He stared intently at the floor, nervous under the blond’s gaze.

The man gestured for him to sit on the couch before pacing toward the fridge. “Do you want something to eat? You must be hungry.”

He nodded, awkwardly placing himself on the cushions while the other made his way to the kitchen. Based what he saw in the mirror, he could really use something in his stomach.

“I’m sorry, this is probably really weird for you, huh?” The blond chuckled rubbing the back of his neck as he shut the refrigerator door. “I’d be uncomfortable too if I woke up in a stranger’s apartment.”

He strode over to the couch and sat next to the black haired man, holding out a bottle of water. “I’m Will, by the way. Will Solace.”

He took the water from Will, downing almost half the bottle in one gulp.

“So, what’s your name? You didn’t have your ID on when I found you.” The blond asked as he pulled another slice of pizza out of its box and put it on a paper plate.

“My name?” He furrowed his eyebrows. _What is my name?_

“Yeah,” Will encouraged, handing him the slice of pizza. “What do people call you?”

“I-I can’t remember.”

“Amnesia!” The blond suddenly scolded himself, running his fingers through his golden locks. “How did I not consider amnesia!”

“I’m sorry?”

Will sighed. “No, it’s my fault for not taking you to a hospital. I thought I could handle it myself.”

“I think you handled it pretty well.” He gave the other a little smile. “I’m not dead right?”

Will seemed to ponder the complement before returning with a bright grin of his own, “Thanks.”

“I should be thanking you.” The black haired man pointed out. “How did you know what to do?”

“Oh, it wasn’t too difficult. I’m in med school, and my dad is a pretty well-known surgeon. I practically grew up in a medical setting.” Will answered casually.

“Wow. That’s, actually really impressive.” He took a bite out of the pizza. “So you’re like a prodigy?”

“I wouldn’t say that.” The med student laughed loosely.

“Well there’s something special about you.” He stated matter-of-factly. “I doubt the average person could do what you did. I owe you one.”

Will’s face flushed pink. “No really, It wasn’t-I didn’t-” He fiddled with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Thanks.”

“I wish I could tell you more about me.” He frowned.

“Hey,” Will met his eyes, lifting the mood. “I have an idea.”

“What is it?”

“Why don’t we come up with a name for you?” He offered. “Just so I can call you something other than ‘you’ until you remember your real name.”

The other shrugged, “Okay.”

“Hmmm,” the blond thought, “How about Alex?”

He scrunched is nose, “No.”

“Yeah that one doesn’t really fit…What about Lucas?”

“No.”

“Casey?”

“I don’t like that one either.”

“How about…” Will put an index finger to his lip, “Dominic?”

“Dominic?”

“Yeah.”

He took a moment to consider. “Sure.”

“Dominic it is.” The blond grinned. “Now we just need a last name.”

‘Dominic’ glanced down at the pizza box. A red light flickered. “di Angelo.”

“What was that?”

“di Angelo.” He cleared his throat. ‘ _From the Angel_.’ Something in those words felt special to him. “For my last name.”

Will looked him over. “Domenic di Angelo? I like it, but-”

“Should I have chosen something else?”

“No, no,” Will smiled, “I was just thinking about giving you a nickname.”

He tilted his head. “A nickname?”

“Yeah, something that rolls off the tongue.” Will nibbled at his pizza slice. “Like how my name is William, but everyone calls me ‘Will’ because it’s short and people are lazy.”

“Oh. I don’t know any nicknames.”

The blond was quiet for a while. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. “I got it!” His eyes seemed to capture the rays of the sun, “What do you think of being called Nico?”

“Nico.” He repeated, the syllables comfortable in his mouth. He liked the way Will said the name. It had a sense of familiarity as if they had been friends for years. “I think I like it.”

“Nice to meet you Nico.”

They sat without speaking for a while, not quite sure what to say after that. The stillness was awkward, but not suffocating. Will was the first to break the silence.

“So you really don’t remember anything?” His voice was warm, tinged with curiosity.

“I don’t know.” Nico answered simply. “The last thing I remember was waking up half dead. Then you showed up.”

Will pursed his lips. “Do you remember how you got injured? Your wounds weren’t like anything I’ve seen before.”

“No I-” His voice caught. _A bright light. A high place. A hard fall_. “I fell.”

Nico’s voice was quiet, toned like broken glass. Will was sure he remembered something. He had said the same exact words to him that night; but he wasn’t going to push for answers, not when he seemed so fragile. “Do you remember anything else? Family? Friends? Where you live? Your age? A phone number?”

He said nothing, only shaking his head his head in response. _No_.

“I’m sure someone will come looking for you.” Will reassured. “Maybe then you’ll remember something.”

_No one is looking for you_. Nico heard a whisper picking at the back of his head. _They know exactly where you are. They don’t care about you._

“No.” He mumbled in defiance, clenching his fists. “You’re wrong.”

“Nico?” Will was tapping him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He lied, fidgeting with his gauze.

Will reached his arm out to Nico, lightly placing his palm on the bandages black haired man was toying with. He ran his thumb along the gauze, smoothing out the area that had started curling upward. Nico’s breath hitched at the touch, the heat of the blond’s hand running across his ribs and climbing up to his face. Will swiftly pulled away.

“Sorry.” He grinned awkwardly, a red tint covering his freckles. “I just need you to keep those on. You’re still pretty banged up. Which reminds me-”

Will got up from his spot on the couch. “I have some work to catch up on.”

“Work?” Nico questioned as he carefully lifted himself off the cushions as well.

“Just some med school stuff. I missed quite a bit to help you out.”

“Sorry.” Nico looked down, suddenly aware how much of a burden he must have been to this man. Will had dropped everything to make sure that he was okay. How long had he even been out? Was it one day? Two? _A week_? It didn’t matter anyway, he had already taken up so much of his time already.

“Nico, you don’t have to apologize.” The blond’s voice was genuine. “I’m not training to be a doctor for nothing. I _want_ to help people.”

Nico didn’t know what to say _. I want to help people_. Will didn’t mind wasting his time on the bloody faces of people he never met, as long as he could stop their tears. _What a fascinating human._ Nico thought _._ The way the voice in his head said ‘human’ was odd, as if he himself was not one. What else could he be if not human?

“-ico? Nico?’ Will’s voice cut through his thoughts. He hadn’t realized he was staring at the blond, whose face was twisted in apprehension. “You should get some rest.”

“But-”

“You still need to heal. I’ve treated the wounds as best as I can, but for now you need to take it easy. Doctor’s orders.”

Nico decided not to argue. For someone who had only been awake for a few hours, he was seriously drowsy. He left Will to work as he shuffled back to the bedroom and flopped down onto the squishy bed, wrapping himself in the sheets. He was asleep the moment his head touched the pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been staring at this chapter for the past week and I just can't bring myself to like it lmao
> 
> If you're wondering why I chose Dominic over Nicholas for Nico's name, I felt Dominic would fit the the story more because the name itself means "Of the Lord/Belonging to God" rather than Nicholas which means "Victory of the People."  
> So essentially, the name he chose means "Angel of the Lord"


End file.
